


Caught in the Storm

by mhamiltonwrites



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Ranger
Genre: Other, Pokemon Ranger: Vatonage | Shadows of Almia, Rangers, Team Dim Sun (Pokemon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhamiltonwrites/pseuds/mhamiltonwrites
Summary: A Ranger rescue mission takes a turn when Ranger Tristan discovers the trapped trainer he's been sent out to find is in fact a Dim Sun grunt. Tristan has to put his own concerns to one side and find shelter for himself and the trapped grunt. In the light of a campfire, Tristan discovers there's more to this grunt than meets the eye. Maybe, just maybe, he can be saved from more than just the storm...





	Caught in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> An abridged version of this piece featured in a recent Pokémon Ranger fanzine. This is my preferred version so I'm very happy to be able to share it with you here. This is my first time writing in this fandom, though I've been a fan of Pokémon Ranger and the Pokémon franchise since I was a kid, so it's been a real thrill to create fan content for it. The tone of these stories and setting is so inviting, and a real departure from my usual style, so I really enjoyed the challenge. I'm replaying some of the classic games at the moment during lockdown, so I may well return to writing for this fandom again in the near future. Thanks for reading!

The rain that had filled the sky all day may have passed, but fierce winds still whipped through the long grass covering the craggy hillside. Ranger Tristan Lively stared out into the dark, his forearm raised against the gale as he jogged onwards. “Keep your eyes open, Buddy,” he called to his partner Pokémon, a Bulbasaur that was cantering along just ahead of him. “According to the mission brief, that trapped trainer is around here somewhere!”

The call had been radioed in after another trainer flying to safety had spotted a figure trapped in a gully far below. The crosswinds were too severe for the flyer to dare a rescue, so they’d called it in to the Ranger Station. Tristan knew how bad it could get out in the wild areas if you weren’t prepared; weather changed quickly, and shelter was hard to find if you didn’t know where to look. Even then, Tristan had been an Area Ranger here for nearly four years now and today had been one of the worst storms he’d seen yet. He quickened his pace, pulling out a torch. The harsh white beam cut through the cold night air. Ahead, Tristan could see a broad shadow - the crevasse was dead ahead.

“This way, Buddy!” 

“Bulba!” His short, green-scaled companion called out in acknowledgement. 

Tristan dashed to the edge of the drop, skidding to a stop by the crack in the ground. The lip was sheer granite, still slick from the rain. It would be all too easy to lose your footing and slip down, with the wet stone making it almost impossible to get back out again. The Bulbasaur came to a halt next to him, its eyes narrowed. “Bulba… Bulbasaur,” it mumbled, clearly agitated by the harsh weather. 

“Don’t worry, Bud, we’ll be back at the ranger station soon,” Tristan reassured the little creature, rubbing its head gently. “Just as soon as we’ve gotten this trainer back to safety!”

Tristan clicked the torch back on again, directing the beam down into the open crevasse. It was deep and long, though little more than a metre across at its widest point. “Hey, anyone down there,” he called out, tracing the light through the gloom. At last, the torch beam illuminated a figure pressed against the crevasse wall. He was dressed in a drenched black and purple uniform, his blonde hair plastered to his head.

The figure looked up to the beam, squinting at Tristan. He waved feebly. “Hey… I think I’ve hurt my ankle pretty bad…” He sounded pained, his breathing heavy. His eyes widened as he noticed Tristan’s uniform. “Heh… So you’re one of those do-gooder Rangers, huh? That’s me in trouble.”

Tristan gulped. There was no mistaking that black and purple outfit, nor the strange symbol on the stranded stranger’s jacket; this guy was a member of Team Dim Sun. They’d all been briefed about these guys back at the Ranger Station. They were dangerous, not just to people but to Pokémon too, taking control of them by force. Sensing his concern, Buddy bumped its head against his thigh. “Bulba,” it murmured softly. 

“Thanks, Buddy,” Tristan smiled, rubbing the little creature under its chin. “Don’t worry, I got this.” He turned his attention back to the Team Dim Sun grunt below him. Regardless of who this guy worked for, he was in trouble down there. Tristan’s first job was to assess that ankle and see if there was anything he could do to help right now. “Hang on, alright? I’ve got a rope right here!” He unhooked the loop of rope hanging from his utility belt and looked for a decent anchoring point. An outcrop of stone looked like it would do the trick. Working quickly, Tristan looped the rope around the stone and knotted it tight. A few test tugs to make sure it would hold and he was ready. “Look out below!” He tossed the rope over the lip of the crevasse. It was now or never...

Bulbasaur gave another nervous cry. Tristan gave it another reassuring wave. “It’s okay! I’ll be right back. You’ll watch the rope for me, won’t you?” 

The green creature stomped over, its scarlet eyes frowning in determination. It squatted beside the anchor point, its gaze fixed on Tristan’s careful knots. “Bulba!”

“Thanks, Buddy.” Tristan gave his companion one last pat, then took a deep breath and began walking backwards towards the edge of the gully. He felt his foot step out over open air then set down against slippery stone. 

“Oh, this should be fun,” the grunt sneered from somewhere below him. “So you’re gonna get yourself killed trying to get me into a prison cell, huh?”

“I’m not here to arrest you,” Tristan called back, his teeth gritted as he tried to focus on lowering himself slowly down. “I’m here to help you. So just wait there and let me concentrate for a sec, okay?”

It was hard going. The rain-soaked rocks were like an ice sheet under his boots, making him slip an inch or two with every step he took down it. Finally he stepped down onto solid ground. Tristan took a moment to catch his breath, then turned back to the Dim Sun grunt. “Alright, let me take a look at that ankle, okay?”

The grunt recoiled apprehensively. “No funny business, alright? I ain’t afraid of you!”

“Whatever you say,” Tristan replied, raising his hands. “Like I said, I’m not here to arrest you. I just want to help.” He walked over to the stricken grunt, clicking his torch back on to better look at the ankle. “You mind if I touch it? I gotta see if it’s broken or not.”

“Doesn’t feel broken…” The grunt still looked like he was expecting Tristan to pull out handcuffs any second now. “Do you really have to touch it?”

Tristan shrugged. “Not if you don’t want me to, no. It’ll just be easier to tell how much help you’ll need getting back to town, that’s all.”

The grunt looked like he was ready to say no, then winced as he tensed. “Alright, alright, just… Be gentle, okay?”

“I will be, don’t worry.” 

Tristan crouched down and reached softly for the grunt’s injured extremity. As his hands brushed across it the grunt yelped and pulled back in exaggerated pain. “Yeowch! I said be gentle!”

“C’mon, I barely touched you,” Tristan said, his voice raising in frustration. “I made a promise to my partner up there that I’d get them back to shelter as soon as possible. I haven’t broken a promise before and I’m not planning on starting tonight, so I’m gonna need you to work with me a little bit here!”

He glared up the grunt, his eyes blazing. The grunt looked like he was about to respond, but he caught the look on Tristan’s face and stopped, clearly thinking better of it. He shrugged. “Heh… Fine.” 

Tristan reached out again and touched the ankle. The grunt gritted his teeth but didn’t pull away again this time, letting Tristan properly examine it. It definitely felt swollen. Still, the grunt was standing so the odds were it was just a nasty sprain rather than a full break. “You’re lucky, I don’t think you’re going to need a splint.” He reached back down to his utility belt, retrieving his pain spray. “This’ll help you to be able to put some weight on it.”

He rolled up the cuff of the grunt’s black trousers and sprayed a generous amount of gel onto the bruised ankle. The grunt winced again at the sudden sensation, but relaxed again as the medication began to work its magic. His eyes widened in surprise. Whatever the kid was doing to him was working. “Well, I’ll be…”

Tristan smiled. “That’s pain spray! Works every time. Now, you feel like you can stand on it properly?”

“Y-yeah.” The grunt gently stood up a little straighter. “…Thanks.”

“You can thank me once we’re both out this hole and back in the ranger station.” Tristan looked up, shielding his eyes against the rain. The wind hadn’t let up for even a second. Time to get out of here and back to safety. He knelt, knotting his fingers together. “C’mon, I’ll give you a boost up! The rope should help the rest of the way.”

The grunt paused for a second, still wary. From the look on his face, he was ready to run. Still, even he could see there weren’t really any options here. Gingerly he placed his good foot onto Tristan’s waiting hands. “Jus’ be careful, alright?”

“Sure thing,” Tristan said, gritting his teeth. “On three! One, two… three!” With a yell, he heaved the grunt upwards while the young man pulled himself up on the rope. For a second his hands looked like they would slip, but with a little effort he was up and out. Tristan cheered as the grunt’s feet made it up and over the lip of the gully. “Yes! Alright, wait there and I’ll be right up after you.”

Now it was his turn. He gripped the rope once again. It had become slick from contact with the wet stone wall, the acrylic threads now dripping. Tristan gave it a nervous tug. It seemed to be holding. Still, this was no time to get scared. Team Dim Sun or not, the guy up there still needed his help, and a Ranger didn’t leave anyone stranded. Doubling his resolve, Tristan planted a boot on the gully wall, and started to pull himself up.

It was even harder than the descent. Mud kept running down the gully wall, making him slip with every inch upward. Tristan gritted his teeth, squinting in effort as he pulled. It was working though. Slowly but surely, he was climbing out.

Suddenly, he heard Buddy give a shout of concern from above him. “Bulba!” Tristan’s eyes widened as he felt the rope begin to loosen. The knot on the anchoring point had finally started to slip! Tristan yelled out, fear rushing through him. He was falling.

Before he could fall more than an inch, he felt something like a rope snake around his chest. He hung, suddenly suspended by the pair of green vines that now encircled him. Buddy had caught him! The relief didn’t last long though; he could feel himself starting to lower. He stared up through the rain. There, at the edge of the gully was his Bulbasaur. It was clearly struggling to find purchase in the slippery grass. “Bulba,” it called out, desperation in its voice. “Bulbasaur!”

“It’s okay, Buddy, don’t hurt yourself,” Tristan called back. “It’s no good if we both fall in!”

Suddenly the Bulbasaur’s eyes widened as it was lifted into the air. Tristan felt himself being lifted along with it as he watched. A pair of strong hands were now holding the small Pokémon aloft, pulling it and Tristan back up towards solid ground. A familiar face came into view. The grunt! “Ugh... Hold on, kid,” he said through gritted teeth. “Jus’… a couple more… seconds!” 

Tristan kicked out with his feet, reaching for solid ground until, at last, he felt soil and turf beneath his boots. The vines loosened from around his waist and he dropped to the ground, bending his knees as he landed to lessen the impact. Beside him, the grunt had fallen down onto his backside, panting. He was still holding Buddy aloft. It hooted in objection at the indignity, its stumpy legs kicking in the air. “Bulba!”

“S-sorry…” The grunt lowered the small Pokémon back to the ground. It shook itself then hurried over to Tristan, leaping up at him.

“Hey, hey, I’m okay, Bud,” Tristan smiled. “You saved me!” He looked towards the grunt again. “Thanks. You really came through for Buddy and me there.”

The grunt looked away, clearly embarrassed. “Heh… Don’t go getting all chummy with me now, kid. I was just repaying the favor.”

“Well, whatever your reasons, I appreciate it. A lot.” Tristan looked about them, assessing the situation. The wind and the rain had nearly caused another accident there. Who knew if they’d be able to get back to town in one piece if it stayed this bad? “We best find some shelter nearby. You’re still hurt, and this storm isn’t getting any better.”

“What? How are we supposed to find shelter in this?”

“Leave it to Buddy,” Tristan smiled. “Even grass types like them don’t like being out when it’s like this. They’ll instinctively seek out the nearest safe spot, and their eyes are a lot better than ours at seeing in the dark- if there’s somewhere safe to rest up, Buddy’ll find it.” He crouched down, scratching the top of the little green Pokémon’s head. “What do you say, Bud? Can you help us out again?”

“Bulba,” it replied, determined. Buddy sniffed the air for a moment, stomped its feet on the damp grass then tilted its head as if listening intently. Then, all of a sudden, it started running, calling out triumphantly for the pair to follow. “Bulbasaur!”

Tristan smiled again. “Told you!” He set off after his partner Pokémon. He knew he could rely on Buddy.

For a moment, the grunt paused. He could run now, find his own way back to civilization. Be free of this do-gooder and his Pokémon. Still, it was cold, and shelter sounded pretty appealing right now. Besides, he still owed the kid for getting him out of that hole… Damn it. Shaking his head, the grunt followed Tristan.

It wasn’t long before Buddy skidded to a halt in front of a small rock formation. Natural outcroppings had created a small cave. “Nice one, Bud,” Tristan called proudly. “I knew I could count on you!” He turned, grinning broadly at the grunt. “What d’ya think?”

The grunt glowered. “Ain’t exactly five-star accommodation.”

“What, you never been camping before?” Tristan headed inside, ducking his head a little to get in. “Just you watch, once we get a fire going this place will be great.” Truth be told, the cave was a little on the cramped side. Perfect for a pair of Bulbasaur sheltering from the rain, but not much room for humans. Small roots crept out of cracks in the low ceiling and the ground was littered with pebbles and dead leaves. Still, cramped was better than cold, wet and exposed out in the storm. At least in here the wind wasn’t biting at them. He knelt and started gathering stones in a small circle. “Hey, could you give me a hand,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Depends. What do you need me to do?”

“While I’m getting this set up, go ahead and snap off some of the drier-looking roots from up there.”

The grunt grumbled something under his breath but complied, stretching up a little to reach them while Tristan pulled a block of something white and waxy from a pouch on his belt. Firestarter. Water resistant, quick to light, and burned long enough to build a fire around. An essential part of any Ranger’s kit. A touch from his lighter and it was smouldering. He set the white block down in the circle of stones.

“Will these do?” The grunt held out a small bundle of twigs.

Tristan grinned back at him. “Perfect!”

A little while later and the small but cozy fire was glowing. The two trainers and Bulbasaur sat close to it, warming themselves. Tristan and the grunt had both taken off their jackets, draping them over warmed rocks to dry. Sleepily, the Bulbasaur moved closer to Tristan, resting its little green head on his lap. He smiled, softly petting the dozing creature. The grunt watched the scene with narrowed eyes. “You and that Bulbasaur are real close, huh?”

“Yep,” Tristan replied, still watching his small companion sleep. “Me and Buddy go way back. I’ve lost count of the number of scrapes they’ve helped me out of.”

“Heh… You talk like it cares about you.”

Tristan looked up, confused. “Haven’t you ever worked with a Pokémon before?”

The grunt sneered. “Pokémon are just tools. That’s it.”

“That’s not a nice way to think about anyone. What if someone said that about you?”

The grunt was quiet for a moment. “…Maybe I am just a tool. I’m nobody special. Most of Dim Sun don’t even know my name. I just do what I’m told, go where I’m instructed.” His head slumped, eyes falling to the dirt floor. “I can’t even do that without falling in a hole and needing some do-gooder Ranger to come and pull me back out.”

It was Tristan’s turn to be quiet. It definitely didn’t sound like any kind of life he’d want any part of. In the Rangers, he knew he could rely on others to be there for him. That no matter what, no matter the challenge, he wouldn’t have to face it alone. It sounded like the grunt, whoever he was, had never had that. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name. You never actually told me yet.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Well, this whole time I’ve only been looking at you like you’re just another member of Dim Sun I should be scared of. I’ve treated you like a threat without even knowing who you are. That’s not fair.”

“Hey, that ain’t true. You jumped down into that hole to help me even after seeing who I was.” His eyes fell again to the flickering fire. “Don’t know many folks who’d do that for a guy like me. Hell, if it’d been switched and I’d been the one finding you, I don’t even know whether I would’ve stuck around to help.”

The grunt gazed despondently into the flames, his head bowed. His shoulders shook a little, even with the warmth of the fire. Suddenly he looked back up as a small green head butted against his knee. The kid’s Bulbasaur had come over for some reason. It murmured softly, head still pressed against him. “Bulba.”

“Uh… What’s it doing?”

“Trying to help, same as me,” Tristan smiled. “Buddy wants to make you feel better.”

“Heh… Thanks, I guess.” A little nervously, he reached towards the Bulbasaur and gently started to pet it. It rumbled contentedly against him. “Woah…”

Tristan’s eyes widened. “Have you never even petted a Pokémon before?”

“Not for a long time. Not since I was really small.”

“I’m glad we could help with too, then.”

“Yeah…” The grunt rubbed the Bulbasaur’s head with a little more confidence. “Y’know, I never really thought about what it’s gotta be like for the Pokémon who go through what Dim Sun put ‘em through. Losing control like that. I guess if I had it would’ve made it harder to stick around.” He shivered slightly, despite the heat and the Pokémon resting against him. “That must make me sound like a real bad guy, huh?”

Tristan was quiet for a moment. He stared back at the shivering grunt. What kind of life must he have had, not being able to get close to those around him? Not connecting to the world he was part of? “I don’t think so,” he finally said, breaking the silence that had fell between them. “It sounds like you were doing what you were trained to do. Same as being a Ranger. Same as being a Pokémon.” He fixed his gaze on the grunt, willing him to listen. “What’s important is you realizing what Team Dim Sun has been doing is wrong and doing better when you get the chance. Pokémon grow and evolve the more they learn. We can do that too.”

“Evolve, huh,” the grunt murmured.

“Yup.” Tristan leaned back against the wall of the cave. “Now we should try and get some rest. It’s not going to do us any good to stay up all night in this.”

“Heh… What’s to stop me running off soon as you fall asleep?”

“Nothing, I guess. I just hope you won’t leave without saying goodbye.” He closed his eyes and yawned, feeling the exhaustion finally starting to catch up with him…

Tristan was woken by sunlight streaming in through the mouth of the cave. The ashes of the night’s fire were still lightly smoking. Buddy had curled up against him in the night. Tristan glanced around. The grunt wasn’t anywhere to be seen, save for his jacket that still hung on the rock where it had been left to dry. Tristan leapt to his feet, snatched up the jacket and dashed out the cave. “Bulba,” Buddy called sleepily, slowly getting to its feet and stumbling after him.

Outside the sun was shining, all trace of the storm gone save for the rain that still clung to the grass, making it glitter underfoot. Tristan stared wildly about him, searching for any trace of the grunt. There! Just a short ways away he could see a figure, making their way across the hillside. Tristan jogged after them, calling out. “Hey! Wait up!” The figure stopped and turned. It was definitely the grunt. Tristan caught up with him, and panting a little, held out the jacket. “You forgot this!”

The grunt reddened a little. “Heh… I don’t need it. I don’t think it fits right anymore.”

Tristan blinked in surprise. “Wait, you mean-”

“Yep. I mean I’m done being just another Dim Sun fool. I’m done having someone tell me what to do and what to think.” He turned away from Tristan, taking in the hillside that sprawled away from them, the mountains climbing in the distance, and the perfect blue sky that seemed to stretch on forever. He smiled, a warm, determined grin of happiness like nothing Tristan had seen on his face yet. “From now on, I’m gonna figure that stuff out for myself. There’s a whole world out there I’ve never seen. I’m gonna go travelling.” He turned back, still smiling. Buddy had caught by now and chirruped happily in the morning rays. The grunt knelt down and scratched the creature’s little green head. “Hey, maybe I might even catch me a Pokémon along the way. Maybe I can make it as a trainer. What do you think?”

“I still don’t even know your name.”

“…Warren. My name is Warren.”

“I’m Tristan,” the Ranger replied, holding out a hand for the young man to shake. “I think you’ll make a great trainer, Warren. Just remember that Pokémon are living, caring creatures, just the same as you and me, and you’ll do great.”

Warren took the proffered hand and shook it firmly. “Thanks, Tristan.” He looked as if he was about to leave, but stopped, looking back over his shoulder, face reddening again. “Maybe… Maybe we could see each other again some time. Go camping or something.”

Tristan’s face broke into a broad smile. “You can count on it.”


End file.
